


I Had A Dream It Wasn't You

by AutumnMelon



Series: Wow, another Tommy-centric fic :0 [5]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (by dream duh), Brotherly Love, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Ghosts, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Angst, Manipulation, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Sam | Awesamdude, Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mild Language, Prison, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), They need a hug, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), so do i actually :'), tommy is dead crab rave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnMelon/pseuds/AutumnMelon
Summary: Dying didn't seem so bad, for Tommy it seemed like it would be an escape; but he was still hesitant. While being trapped with Dream in prison though, was not the way he wanted to go. But, even so, he had hope it would be peaceful.You could say he's still deciding if that's true or not.Title from 'You Don't Know' by The Gromble
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Wow, another Tommy-centric fic :0 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197617
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	I Had A Dream It Wasn't You

**Author's Note:**

> Wording may be a bit strange on this one cuz this was originally 800 words but I tried stretched it out to be 1000 :)

Being dead did not seem as refreshing as Tommy thought it ought to be. 

Dream had beat him... clenched onto Tommy’s already bloodied-blonde hair and hit his head against the wall; all while laughing too. It frightened and pained Tommy that his last memories of being alive were of that bastard. Being trapped with him while taking his final breathes. 

The pains of Dreams fists still there on his face and from his head getting smashed into the obsidian. And his last breathes were jagged and labored, his own blood dripping into his eyes and mouth. The taste of blood still lingered even after death. Although, his red and painful vision did not cross over. 

Now, he was not breathing, from what he could tell. He could see either, his vision was filled with darkness. 

He was dead. 

It was stupid, he knew it, but he could not help but yelp in a broken voice, “Dream?” His voice raspy and strained. He wanted to put a hand up to wipe away the blood dripping from his face, but he was barely able to feel his arms, never mind the rest of his body. Maybe there wasn't even blood on him. 

“Tommy?” 

If the boy were alive, he would have had a full body shock from the unexpected voice. “W-what?” He said lowly and quietly, wanting to look somewhere else then the darkness that swallowed up his vision. 

He could have sworn that voice sounded just like... 

“Why are you here, Tommy?” 

Tommy's feared look quickly shifted into a scowl, “Why are you ‘ere, bitch!” He screamed as best as he could, but his voice wavered and broke off into silence. 

Wilbur was there, Tommy could not see him, but he could feel his presence. “Be quiet, I know that’s hurting your voice.” The man spoke. 

Tommy chose to not comment on that. 

“Wha’ is this place?” 

He could feel Wilbur smile slightly, “The afterlife,” 

Tommy frowned instead, “Why’s it so dark?” 

There was a pregnant pause, one where Tommy could not help but get tangled up in his thoughts. 

Why was Wilbur here, and wasn’t he “supposed to be Ghostbur”? And why did dream... kill him? Maybe he was annoying enough to just beat to death. Is that why Sam did not care to save him? But he thought Sam cared for him; so, did he lie and keep him in there just to die? What about his hotel? Tubbo? -- did he even care? 

“You haven’t developed a ghost body yet.” Wilbur burst through his thoughts. 

“You’ve gotta develop shit?” 

He could feel Wilbur shrug, “Yeah, I had to, and Schlatt had too as well.” 

“Schlatt?” Tommy cried, “Oh, not that bitch again, I’ll hit ‘im!” 

Wilbur chuckled, the sound floating up and off into the abyss that Tommy knew of the afterlife. “He’s changed,” He puts lightly, and Tommy grumbles. “Besides that,” The older man continues, “Why are you here?” Then quieter, “You weren’t supposed to die yet...” 

Tommy frowns again, and if he had a body, it would be slightly shakier. “Dream,” He put simply, because that is all that needed to be said. 

Wilbur turned silent again, and Tommy was only reassured that he was still there by the way his presence lingered in front of him. 

“How long does it take?” Tommy asked in an unusually softly voice, enjoying the silence between them even with the strange darkness. 

Wilbur perked up, and asked in an equally soft voice, “You mean getting a body?” 

“Yeah, what else? Dickhead,” 

The older man hummed, unfazed by the language. “Maybe a few days at the least, it took me awhile, but Schlatt was super quick to form, from what I heard.” 

Tommy wanted to cross his arms, “So I’ll be stuck in this stupid darkness for a good week then, huh.” 

“Maybe so,” 

Another pause, then, “How’s everyone else?” 

Tommy could help but give a sad laugh, “Probably thriving without me.” He could feel Wilbur frown. “I know Niki and Jack are—d'you know they tried to kill me?” He smiled as if he were reminiscing in the memory; but he wasn’t, and the smile was shaky and did not reach his eyes—or at least, from what he could feel. 

“Oh,” Was all Wilbur could say. 

“Yeah...” 

He tried once more, “What about Tubbo, you and him are super close--” 

“He’s off with Ranboo now.” 

“Oh,” He repeated. 

“Oh,” Tommy mocked in false stupefy, before became angry. “Asshole, none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t died and blew everything up.” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” Tommy tried to shout but came out more as a harsh whisper. _His throat_ _fucking hurt_ _s_ _._ His voice wavered in strain while saying harshly, “You should know it doesn’t, better than anyone else.” 

Wilbur stays silent and his form starts to flicker away. 

“Don’t you dare leave. I will smack you, bitch.” 

The man pauses and gives a weak chuckle, “You can’t,” 

More silence came after that, Tommy not needing to respond and Wilbur having nothing more to say. 

The man’s presence flickered again but Tommy did not say anything this time. He let his own presence float in the darkness; it was kind of like water, it swallowed him, and he could not swim up once too deep. 

Before he had hoped that the afterlife was peaceful, flower fields and soft lights--clouds and wings even; overall, a paradise. This was dark though; nothing to see save for the dark. But it was peaceful here too, calming, and tranquil. Warm too. The ‘strange liquid’ filled his lungs and soothed his throat, the more he relaxed. 

As long as Wilbur did not bother him [too much], he is sure he could stay here just a little while longer. He just hopes his body does not take too long to form... 

“Hey, Wil?” 

“Yeah, Tommy?” 

“...I forgive you—a little.” 

He knew the other smiled, “Thank you,” 

… 

“I still hate you though.” 

“I know,” 

They both smile, _m_ _aybe being_ _dead_ _w_ _on’t_ _be_ _so_ _bad..._

**Author's Note:**

> This was not a planned writing, so I have no clue how I did it so fast-
> 
> Feel free to leave comments! I like reading them :)


End file.
